


Existence

by mansikka



Series: Too Far [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-28 18:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6341167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duty. Obeyance. Order.</p><p>This is Cas' existence.</p><p>This has been Cas' existence, for all of time, for all of his eternity at an angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Existence

Duty. Obeyance. Order.

This is Cas' existence.

This has been Cas' existence, for all of time, for all of his eternity as an angel.

He was there when the first elements split and fused together at his father's spark, to become dust, and matter, and Existence.

He was there when that dust and matter coagulated into spheres and discs under his father's guidance, into solar systems, and supernovaes, and the Universe.

He was there, when with the gentlest of touches, his father shaped, moulded, and breathed life into his Creations.

He'd seen it all. He knew all there was to know. And yet one, insignificant little homosapien had spun him on a trajectory that made him question it all.

Defiance. Disobedience. Free Will.

From that very first moment he had laid eyes on Dean in Hell, something had shifted for him. A twist, in what Dean would call his gut - despite Cas in his true form never even having one - that told him, Existence had changed for him.

A fascination, and a need to protect, had been his first instincts. But as he'd adapted to wearing a vessel and got used to all the human nuances that came with it, he'd felt other things as well.

A heartbeat that raced for reasons other than fight or flight. A warmth, that resonated out from what felt like his core, and made his borrowed body react in ways he knew the theory behind, but not the practice to do much about. A draw; to humanity, to living, to  _ Dean _ .

Of course, there were the other things he learned along the way. Friendship. Trust. Companionship. But also making mistakes. Questioning direction. Not following the rules.

But none of them burned like that sensation of need, of  _ want _ he got from being with Dean. Or that pain he felt when he constantly pulled him close, then without warning, pushed him away. Or that perpetual state of confusion.

One minute, Dean was warm, and with him, and the next, he may as well have been a stain on the carpet of whichever motel room they'd found themselves in that evening.

In the end, he'd had to force himself away. Because nothing could hurt – and that was another thing; all of these constant  _ feelings _ – as much as the way Dean wounded him with his words, and gestures.

So he'd returned Home, thrown himself into Heavenly battles in the hopes of distancing himself. But all he'd done is realise just how human he had become.

He missed Dean, longed for him, heard his continual prayers that were laced with hesitant repetition of  _ sorry _ and  _ please let me try and fix this _ . When he fought, there was rage, and fear, emotions that were out of place in an angel on the battlefield – as all emotions were, really.

Which made him all the more adamant to force himself to stay away.

So he ignored the wall of prayers, the sensations that kept tugging on him. He'd sent another angel in his place when Sam and Dean had needed help; because he still, despite what he tried, couldn't filter them out entirely.

And he'd caved, fallen for Sam's ruse, when he believed Dean to be in trouble. He'd not heard his prayers for several hours, so with Sam's single offering of one, he'd assumed the worst.

Sam's pleas of  _ five minutes _ was just another chipping away at the wall he'd thrown up to try and protect himself.

So he'd adamantly refused to give himself even that, no matter how much he wanted it.

Cas watched from afar as Dean grew more careless, and it put him out of sorts for his own battles, often caught off guard when he needed his guard up. Dean's prayers became louder, more desperate, and every now and then Cas felt that perhaps there was longing come through from Dean too. But he couldn't be sure. He wouldn't let himself be sure, not with the constant push and pull of everything that was Dean's treatment of him.

So he found himself, in a constant state of distraction.

He's trying to listen now, to the orders of the garrison. But whatever he's hearing there is constantly interrupted by Dean. He thinks to himself just how much he misses humanity, and Earth, and  _ living _ . And most of all how much he misses Dean.

Battles here in this plane of existence aren't like those shown in those documentaries he's watched on Sam's laptop from time to time. There's no spilled blood, there's no one to document it. It's all flashes of colour, and blasts of sound; nothing he could ever quite explain right from a human perspective.

But even here, in the midst of that, he is thinking of Dean.

So he's pulled back, and volunteered for some solo 'missions', because he's becoming a danger to those around him, as well as himself.

And now he's on Earth, so he's got a little of what he wanted. Even if he's not on the same continent as Dean.

He's following orders, tracking down misplaced weapons, doing what is expected of him in the name of The Good Fight.

But in his human vessel, all those emotions he feels are that much more vivid. So longing for Dean, and his overall missing of him, makes him sloppy, and careless.

It's how he's ended up cornered unawares, and how he's now hunted, rather than hunter.

How he's unable to move from the angel trap he's found himself in. And how he feels the sliding of a poison-tipped blade sliding deep into his back.

His only thought then is to get to Dean; not because he believes Dean can – or even will, save him.

But, Cas tells himself, when he finds himself now free, but fading. He'd like to lay his eyes one last time on the one thing that has made him  _ alive _ .

  
  
  



End file.
